


In Pursuit of Normality

by Mersheeple



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Childhood, Gen, Illnesses, POV First Person, Therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-18 11:48:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28617576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mersheeple/pseuds/Mersheeple
Summary: Hermione Granger just wants to be normal. She just wants to be the same as everyone else...except she's not.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 10





	In Pursuit of Normality

**Author's Note:**

> This popped into my head and I had to get it out. Love you all!

Sitting in the doctor's office, waiting to hear my name called. It's normal. It's normal. This reaction. It's normal. My chest feeling tight as I remind myself it's ok to breathe. Ten years old, grown up too fast, it's normal, it's normal. I'm normal.

_It's not normal. Take a pill..._

It doesn't help, it doesn't work. I still remember. It still hurts. The tight pain in my chest, the buzzing and ringing in my ears, the lights flashing, the explosions, Mama screaming, Dad shouting, so much noise.

_Up the dosage. Take two pills._

Six weeks, eight weeks, ten weeks. It doesn't work. Every day it gets worse, more buzzing, more screaming, more pain...

_Take a different pill. Give it time. Give it a chance._

Two weeks. It makes me sick.

_Give it time._

Four weeks. It makes me sleepy.

_Take a different pill. Give it time._

Two weeks. It makes me numb.

_Give it time._

Four weeks. It makes me lethargic.

_Give it more time._

Eight weeks. It makes me fat.

_Try something else. Try talking._

No one understands. No one gets it. Can't talk to him. Can't talk to them. Can't explain what I don't understand. Stop. I'm a child. Stop. I can't. I'm still just a child.

_Try a new pill._

Two weeks. Four weeks. Six weeks. Eight weeks. It works. These pills work. Ten weeks. Twelve weeks. Four months. They don't work. It hurts. I cry too much.

_Double the dosage._

Two weeks. Four weeks. Six weeks. Three months. Four months. Six months. I feel better. I'm ok. I'm normal.

_Half the dosage. Wean you off._

It's not working. I'm shaking. I'm sick. I'm coming down and crashing. Help me someone help.

_Take a pill. Take a pill. Take a pill._

Two weeks. Four weeks. Six weeks. Doesn't work. Two weeks. Four weeks. Six weeks. God it hurts. Two weeks. Four weeks. Six weeks. Makes me sick.

_Good grief girl! Get over it!_

New doctor. New start. Try something else Doc. Make me normal. Make me normal.

_Have you tried talking?_

It doesn't work. Nothing works. It's hopeless. I'm helpless. I can't. Please don't make me.

_You're not helping yourself. Try group therapy._

I don't trust him. I don't trust her. I don't like her. I can't talk to him. He doesn't listen. She doesn't care. I can't do this.

_Try this pill._

It makes me sick.

_Take this pill too. It stops the nausea._

But I'm putting on weight now.

_Add this pill. You'll eat less._

My eleventh birthday. The letter lands on the doormat, elegant green ink, a letter addressed to me.

**"Prepare to receive me at 4:30pm on Saturday 22nd September 1990. Sincerely, Minerva McGonnagal, Deputy Headmistress, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."**

An explanation. Finally. Not crazy. No pills, no therapy. Nothing wrong with me. Just different. Special.


End file.
